Echoes of Erin: Deleted Scenes and Other Lost Dreams
by WishfulThinker66
Summary: A series of one-shots threaded throughout and continuing Rick's romance in my story 'Echoes of a Dream'. Includes many of the characters from the early days of the show. Please read and review :)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N If you've just stumbled upon this here and have yet to read "Echoes of a Dream", this will make absolutely no sense to you. So I strongly suggest that you read that first and then come back here for a continuation of Rick and Erin's love story.**

 **This is the first in a series of one-shot deleted scenes that will highlight special moments of their relationship, both in and out of the dream. I will try to update once or twice a month, so look for me on those groggy Monday mornings.**

 **This installment takes place in the final chapter (58); after meeting for the first time when he wakes up, just before the epilogue.**

 **Let me know what you think!**

 **Enjoy…**

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Erin bites the end off another french fry but doesn't really taste it. Her senses have shifted, molded from five separate factions to one commanding force, concentrated behind her eyes to focus on the sight of the man sitting across the small table.

She doesn't smell the loaded cheeseburger that Rick is devouring. She doesn't hear the flurry of activity from the nurse's station out in the hallway or the light patter of rain against the third floor window that shrouds the sunset in dusky gray. She doesn't feel the cold plastic of the Propel water bottle as she lifts it to her lips to wash down the fries. But she sees each wavy strand of dark hair that sits high on Rick's forehead, the prominent cleft that splits his chin with an adorable little divot, the curve of his sensuous lips as he grins in modest humility through the outrageous tale of his dream, and the bright light in the beautiful blue eyes that are gazing back at her with cerulean tenderness.

He is charming and thoughtful and sexy as hell, especially now that he has traded his hospital gown for street clothes. Dressed in a pair of dark sweatpants and a light gray tee shirt, with the emblem of a small police shield covering his heart to boast his department in King County, he looks as commanding as he does in his full uniform, which Doc Morgan informed them would be staying in his closet for several more weeks while he continued to heal and regain his strength. With the news that he wouldn't be released from the hospital for at least two more days, Shane had taken pity on him and offered to run by his house and pick up some clothes that would restore some dignity during the last of his stay. And dignified he did look. He'd insisted on showering and shaving before Lori brought Carl over earlier, and with his dark hair combed back and jaws razor clean, he looks a bit thin but fresh and fairly healthy.

Erin will never forget the look on Carl's face when he saw Rick sitting up in the chair, wide awake and smiling brightly. She'll never forget the expression of pure joy she had seen on Rick's face as well, hugging the boy fiercely as Carl cried in his arms. She could see Rick fighting his own tears, happiness fused with relief, as if his son had been the one in danger of being lost forever.

She'd left them to have a nice long visit while she took care of some personal things, and counted every minute before she returned with their dinner from Five Guys. Now she continues to absorb every syllable as he wraps up the wondrous story of their fight for survival during a zombie apocalypse.

"And then I woke up here," he finishes with a nervous look after swallowing the last of his dinner. "So now is the part where you tell me what a lunatic I am," he says with a forced laugh before taking a sip of his own water.

She'd stayed quiet through his recounting of the dream, hanging onto every word without making a sound, even when she'd wanted to jump in at the parts that she knew he'd edited greatly. Unless she is wrong and he really didn't dream of their special relationship and all the times they had made love. But after five weeks of living a fantasy inside her head, she knows him well and she knows that with every glance down at his food or beyond her shoulder, he was keeping the memories of their tender times to himself. "Wow, that _was_ a crazy dream," she agrees, and then moves full steam ahead before the blushing flutter in her belly can change her mind. With a witty grin and a playful spark in her eyes, she says, "And can you imagine how completely insane it would sound if you'd dreamt of us making love in the water at the bottom of that quarry, or the two of us getting it on against the railing on a balcony at Tybee Island?" His eyes widen as his pale cheeks darken to a warm crimson, but she doesn't let up. Reaching across the table, she gently glides a fingertip across the back of his hand and continues, "Or licking coffee cream off of each other at your grandfather's cabin, or handcuffing me to the headboard in a bed and breakfast hotel? Yeah, that one I wasn't too crazy about at first..." She rolls her eyes with the misty memory of being held captive. "But in the end you made up for it, didn't you." She nods her head with a sinful gaze of wanton lust that deepens his rosy cheeks to a lovely shade of scarlet. Mission accomplished.

"Oh my God. How do you know?"

"Because I was there, honey," she says softly, grinning around the lump in her throat. "Everything you dreamed, I dreamt it too. And maybe we just met here in this room today, but I know you, Rick. And you know me, better than anyone ever will."

Moisture brightens his eyes as he tilts his chin, like she'd seen him do so many times before in her dreams. He lifts his wrist to link their fingers and presses his palm to hers, the heart of his soul seeping into hers through the warmth of his touch and the love in his gaze. "You're my wife."

She nods as tears spill from her own eyes. "And you're my husband."

He smiles brightly, chuckling through his tears. "How is this possible, Red?"

"I don't know, sheriff. I just know that every day I'd come to work and I couldn't get through my shift fast enough so I could come up here and sit with you. Every day I'd walk in this room and wonder, is today the day? Will he open his eyes and look at me?" She swallows hard and chokes on the tears that are thickening her throat, her voice breaking with emotion as she whispers, "Will he know me?"

Rising from his chair as quickly as he can manage with the stitches in his side, he steps around the table and pulls her into his arms. "How could I ever forget you?"

She buries her face in his chest and wraps her arms tightly around his waist. "I'm so glad you didn't."

"I'm so glad you waited for me." His arms tighten around her shoulder blades as he crushes her within them. "Christ, I'm sorry it took me so long to get back to you." The husky gruffness of his words rumbles low against her ear. "Thank you for waiting for me."

She nods her head, rubbing her cheek against his chest and inhaling the scent of him; the heady aroma that she knows so well. "I'd sit with you for hours and just watch you lying there, watch your chest rise and fall with the beeping of the monitors. I'd mention the dream we had the night before and pray that you would respond."

"And you remembered it all?"

"Most of it, yes. Some parts were hazier than others, but my feelings for you were always there when I woke up. The fears would fade quickly when I recognized my bedroom, but the memory of our time together would stay with me." While the horrors of the dream would linger briefly and then dissipate within moments, she had always recalled their lovemaking in vivid detail. When she held him close in her dreams, she would try to keep him close upon waking, closing her eyes and holding onto him until he became just a memory once again, her body losing the whisper of his skin upon hers. And then she would count the minutes until she could get back to the hospital to see him again.

"I'd hate to leave you," she says, her fists clutching his shirt at his lower back. "But at the same time, I couldn't wait to get home and go to sleep so I could talk to you, hear your voice and see your blue eyes looking back at me." She sniffles softly as he rubs soothing arcs across her back. "And when I'd wake up in the morning, I would replay the dream over and over in my head so I wouldn't forget it. I was afraid that maybe you weren't sharing the dream with me, but then I knew – I just _knew_ , that you were. Especially after we got married under the big tree. I brought in the bandana with the rose and I swear you moaned when Morgan was teasing me about it, but he said he didn't hear anything. But I know I did, and I knew that you knew what it meant, and you were thanking me for it."

"I know what it means, sweetheart. And I love it. Thank you."

"The last sponge bath I gave you, I was so tempted to use the bandana, thinking that maybe it could be the trigger that woke you up."

"I gather you didn't use it?" he asks and she nods again. "But I do like the idea of you giving me that sponge bath." She can practically feel the wide grin against her hair and her flutter beams blissfully, deep within her core.

"Oh God, you don't know how hard it was to keep my hands from wandering all over you. I mean, I knew every inch of your body underneath that hospital gown." She slips her hands beneath his shirt now, feeling the warmth of his skin at his back. "But I had to keep it professional, you know? Imagine me trying to explain _that_ to Morgan; _Uh, yeah, it's a new technique to revive coma patients. Got to get in there real close and personal, give them a reason to wake up_ ," she says in a pseudo-stern voice that begs to breathe authority.

He chuckles against her hair and then she feels his lips press lightly upon her temple. "Well, the next time you want to give me a bath, I promise I'll stay awake for it."

"Mmm, next time it won't be in here with all my friends around, that's for sure."

He chuckles again and squeezes her tightly. "Shane said you would play chess in here, moving my pieces as well as yours. Tell me honestly now, did I ever win?"

"Yes, you did actually win once or twice."

"Took pity on me, huh?"

"More like a bribe. But it didn't work."

"Why not?"

"You didn't wake up," she replies sadly, recalling all the times she had begged him to open his eyes.

"I never was any good at accepting bribes. I'm so sorry I put you through that, honey."

"It's okay. It brought us together, right? We found each other. Who knows if we ever would have gotten together if you didn't get shot and drag me into your dream." Her warm smile is full of forgiveness as she burrows deeper into his neck.

"I would have found you one way or another, dream or no dream."

She looks up to meet his gaze, and finds that the sincerity in his eyes is as deep as the faith that lives in her heart. She has no doubt in her mind that they would have found each other somehow. "I believe you."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. You're just one of the miracles in my life that I'll never quite understand, but will be eternally grateful for; I wasn't supposed to live to see seventeen, but here I am. You came to me in a dream once, and kept coming back until you made me fall in love with you. I don't know how it happened, but I'll be forever thankful that it did."

"Well, just to be clear – you made me fall in love with you first. I didn't stand a chance," he says softly as he strokes her cheek with a tender thumb.

"Was that the first day in the hospital? When you saw me with the drunken rabbit? Or the first dream at the quarry?"

"Definitely when you assaulted the Easter bunny." He laughs around a huge grin, and then his mouth softens to an intimate smile. "I thought to myself – now that's the girl of my dreams… and then you were."

When he lowers his chin, she meets his lips with tenderness and trust; giving her heart for him to hold as their souls come together, filling the fissures in each other with a boundless love that was forged in the promise of a distant dream.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Many thanks to my faithful few who have followed me here to see the continuation of this love story. Thank you so very much to my lovely reviewers! _(And I have to thank Mr. Gimple for giving us back our badass sheriff. It's so nice to see him again!)_**

 **This scene takes place in Erin's world and might be found at the end of chapter six, after his first night at the quarry when she wakes him up to go back for his car with Glenn.**

 **I hope you enjoy this little glimpse of what Erin was going through while Rick was lost in his dream…**

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The measured beep of the heart monitor accompanies Bruce Springsteen's rhythm guitar as his romantic lyrics echo softly from the iPod on the table beside the bed. Erin hums along, dreaming of her own hopeful "Rendezvous" with the comatose man whose leg she is currently lifting from the mattress. Up, bend the knee, hold for a few seconds, straighten, and then back to the mattress to repeat the process on his other leg. Holding his ankle in her left hand, she supports his calf in her right hand as she raises his foot about ten inches. She admires his legs, the legs of a runner; lean with prominent muscle tone in his calves and thighs. Wearing only light blue boxer shorts beneath the loose hospital gown that reveals a nice span of his chest and abdomen, she gets a good view of his masculine legs and torso.

"I know you're tired and you don't feel like exercising, Rick, but you've got to keep your muscles active so they don't deteriorate while you're sleeping," she says, pressing up against his calf to force his knee to bend. "Now don't argue with me," she narrows her eyes at the man lying quietly in the bed. "I'm the one with the nursing degree, and I expect all of my patients to walk out of here on their own someday. Yes, you're right, you are not _my_ patient technically, but I've sort of claimed you, so you're stuck with me. It's your own fault for dragging me into your dreams so you have nobody to blame but yourself." She looks at his face, a short glance which turns into a long gaze as she watches for a reaction, a small sign that he can hear her. But like so many of the stretched out gazes she has set upon him this week, her willful stare goes unchallenged as his eyes remain closed, his chest rising and falling steadily in slow sleepy breaths.

Fighting the disappointment that she has come to feel more and more sharply with each passing day, she returns her attention to his legs. "Last night's was a good one, wasn't it?" She recalls the beginning of the dream when she was in the tent getting ready for bed while her three roommates were sleeping. "The way you conveniently just happened to wake up while I was getting undressed? I'm sure you remember that part. Don't you, sheriff?" She can't help smiling at him now, a reflection of the same little grin she had seen on his face last night in the deep heart of her dream, when the apocalyptic sky was dark and the little lantern glowed inside the tent to light his face in playful humor. "It's a good thing you were more cute than creepy. I guess your sweet southern charm was shining through." She rests his left foot on the mattress and reaches for his right. "If it was anyone else, I wouldn't have slept right next to him. But you… I don't know, you made me feel so safe." She'll never forget lying on her mattress next to his and seeing his beautiful blue eyes looking back at her, such tenderness in their depths as he held her gaze in the moonlight. And she'll always remember the way he seemed to be watching over her as she drifted off to sleep, a guardian of her soul, protecting her from a world where nightmares stumbled free.

"Even now, somehow, just lying here like that, I don't know how you do it, but you have a way of making me feel so safe. Maybe it's because I know that you would rescue me from a burning building like I'd rescued you the other night. You know – payback for saving you in the dream and bringing you to the lake." She can almost see his brows lifting high into his forehead. "Well, okay whatever, maybe it was _you_ that brought _me_ to the cabin, but I'm the one that woke you up, remember? I know you remember that now – that's what you told me last night. When you woke up in the morning and finally remembered us being at the lake together." She nods her head at him, recalling the dream she'd had the night before, and then shakes her head slowly. "I was so relieved when you finally remembered me."

She thinks of the dream that had brought them together. Dropping her chin and closing her eyes, she can still feel the warmth of the sun on her face and the heat of the large rock beneath her as the soft quack of a tiny duckling echoes in her ears. She can see the white tee shirt and the dark hair of the man sitting at her side, and she can still feel the way her heart seemed to beat solely for him, and his for her. If two people can connect so strongly through unfathomable measures, it's easy to believe they were created for each other. Which is why she had to end her relationship with the radiology technician.

Letting go of the dream and returning to the sleeping man in the quiet room, she opens her eyes and raises the leg held forgotten in her grasp. "So anyway, I broke up with Tim last night. Yeah, he's okay. He took it really well actually. I think he'd seen it coming for a while now. And not just in the last week. Tim knew I was dragging my feet toward a full commitment, so he was almost expecting it. Especially after our dinner the other night," she says, her eyes widening slightly. "He was telling me about his uncle's surgery and I couldn't stay focused on the conversation. I kept nodding my head and saying 'yes' and 'uh huh' in all the right places, but my mind was a million miles away. Or three miles anyway – hovering here in this room. He knew it too. Assumed I was worrying about one of my patients and asked me if I wanted to talk about it. Of course I said no." She lowers his leg and looks up to his quiet face. "I mean, how can I tell him about these unbelievably strong feelings I have for a man I haven't spoken two words to? Well, yes," she says with a roll of her eyes. "I've spoken many words _to_ you, but we've never held a regular conversation." She tilts her chin with a smirk as she imagines his response, insisting that they had in fact exchanged many words together. "You know what I mean, Rick. Not out here in the real world." She recalls with vivid clarity the long conversation they'd had while she'd removed his sutures in the dream. _If only that could have happened here._

"Anyway, Tim knows I get overly attached to some of my little patients, but he would never… I mean…" She blinks hard as emotion stings her eyes. "Nobody would ever understand how much you have come to mean to me," she says, barely getting the last words out as she chokes on the knot lodged in her throat. She swallows hard and shakes her head to clear the overwhelming sense of affection. "God, I don't even understand it myself. It's crazy, it's insane. But it's also very real. And I think you feel the same way about me. Don't you." Her tone brooks more of a challenge than a question, daring him to wake up and argue the point.

"Okay, I'll tell you what – if you think I should go back to Tim and beg his forgiveness, then open your eyes now and tell me so." A thread of frustration stiffens her back. "Wake up and tell me that you have no idea who I am, that I'm a lunatic, out of my mind for thinking that you and I were meant to be together." She can't help the heat that blisters her words as she glares at him. After a moment of bitter tension that carries a seed of self-doubt, she takes a deep breath and steadies herself, recalling the discussion she'd had with Shane earlier, when Rick's partner had confirmed some details about her patient's personal life. There is no way she could know about Rick's father walking out on his teenage son if she hadn't actually heard it from Rick himself, even if it was only in a dream. Taking comfort and strength from that, she softens her gaze upon his handsome face and switches tactics.

"Or…" she draws out the word, weaving a whisper of hope into the single syllable and softly says, "Just wake up and admit that I am right. Open your eyes and look at me, Rick. See me standing here." She presses her thumbs into his shins, grasping his body for a few lost moments before loosening her grip when she realizes what she'd been doing. "I'm with you, Rick. Right here, right now. Just open your eyes and look at me. Please, honey, just open your eyes."

She brushes a finger across her cheek to relieve an itch and is somewhat surprised when it comes away with the moisture of a tear. She clears her throat and continues the one-sided conversation. "Not yet? Still not ready to meet me in the real world?" She sniffles loudly. "Okay, maybe tomorrow, huh? You know, I really thought today was the day." She lifts his left leg to resume their exercise routine. "I was sure I was going to find you sitting up in that bed when I ran in here this morning. After the dream last night, I just knew it. Yeah, I know I said that before, after the very first dream at the lake. But after last night, when you actually _remembered_ me waking you up from the coma, I was sure this was it. So yeah, I was just slightly disappointed." Her sarcasm echoes off the flower vase and drips from the petals that are standing tall to cheer up the room. She had actually been extremely disappointed when she'd raced to the hospital once again only to find that nothing had changed, once again.

"No, no, you don't have to apologize." She waves a sarcastic hand in mock forgiveness. "I know you still need your rest. So don't you worry about me. I will sit patiently at your side until you are good and ready to come back. But please, Rick…" Holding his knee bent at a sharp angle, she swallows hard and lifts her gaze to his face. "Please come back to me soon." After rubbing a soothing caress against his knee, she stretches his leg and lays it gently on the mattress. "Alright, I'll let you sleep a little longer." Stepping to the side of the bed, she pulls the blanket back up to his waist. "So what's it going to be tonight? A nice romantic walk in the woods above the quarry? Snuggling up by the campfire? Another fishing excursion with Carl? Yeah, I really enjoyed that too." She smiles warmly and takes his hand, and then narrows her eyes at him. "Or are you going to play hard to get, now that you know that you've already got me? Huh?"

He remains quiet, for now. But deep in her soul, she knows that he will come back to the waking world in time. Back to her. She believes that with every ounce of her being, which is the only reason she is able to walk out the door each night.

"Okay, sheriff," she murmurs softly, in the manner of someone watching over a sleeping child; just letting them know you are there without disturbing their sleep. "I guess I'll see you in a little while." Lifting his hand, she lowers her head and turns her chin, bringing his hand up to warm her cheek. "I'll see you soon, honey." With a soft kiss beside his knuckles, she rests his hand upon the mattress at his hip, then collects her personal things and walks out of the room to the tune of "Dream Baby Dream" drifting out of the iPod in her pocket.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Thank you for continuing to follow this story. I sincerely hope you are enjoying it. And many thanks to Mr. Scott Gimple for giving us badass half-naked Rick Grimes! Mmmmm... :)**

 **This installment would take place between chapters 20 and 21, after they make love for first time at the quarry. Enjoy...**

 **(and let me know what you think!)**

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The setting sun adds soft amber to the window sills while bright fluorescent light shines down from the ceiling fixtures, gleaming on the black knight in Erin's hand. She moves the plastic horse-head two spaces to the left, hovers over the small square for a moment, and then returns the piece to its original spot. Lifting the black pawn that guards her rook, she places it on the square two spaces closer to her opponent's royal battalion. "So that was some dream last night," she says with a smile as she reaches for the white knight across the checkered game board. Rick continues to lie quietly in the bed as the thin tubes release oxygen into his nostrils. His eyes remain closed but she can almost see a cocky curve of his lip, can practically _feel_ a tiny smirk of pride that awakens his mouth for just a moment as he recalls their sexy dream.

"You scared the crap out of me for a while there, sheriff. But you certainly made up for it in the end. My God, that was incredible." She moves another black pawn to free the space in front of her queen. "Yes, honey, even the first time in the water was wonderful, no matter how long it lasted. It was amazing. And the second time in the tent – well that was just unreal. Well okay, I know that it actually _was_ not real, but I also know that it definitely happened. It was very real. And I will never forget the way your hands felt on my body," she says softly, whispering the words as gently as the tender caresses they had shared in each other's arms. "Or the taste of your mouth, or the sound of your voice when you called my name." She closes her eyes to relive the dream that had warmed her heart and stroked her flesh as she'd slept; the kind of dream that fantasies are made of. But this was so much more than a fantasy. She can see him still, sexy as hell with his hair slicked back in the rain as she clutched tightly to his shoulders. "The way your body filled mine so perfectly, like we were created for each other. The way you held me so tight and so gentle all at the same time, like you were afraid you were going to hurt me, but terrified to let me go. I will always remember the way you loved me, Rick, and the way that you trembled in my arms afterward." The memory builds an emotional tower behind her eyes. She swallows hard. "I will never forget waking up and _feeling_ you inside me for a moment. It was just a second or two, but you were still with me. And you're still with me now, honey, aren't you? I feel you in here," she says, pressing a fist to her chest where her heart is beating for him with more love than she'd ever thought it could hold, beating with a dream of hope that will mend his injured body and rouse him from his deep, deep sleep.

"When you first came back to the quarry and found me crying by the water, you said that you would always come back to me. You promised me, Rick. Remember? Of course you do. Well I'm not letting you break that promise." She sniffles hard and clears her throat. "So, why don't you wake up now and then we can go back to my place and make love in a nice big bed. No air-mattress this time. I'm talking about a real thick pillow-top Sleep Number that you can sink into. Even more comfortable than that bed you're lying on right now, I can assure you. So what do you say, sheriff? Open your eyes and let me take you home."

She stares into his handsome face, desperately trying to see beyond his closed eyelids. "No? Okay, we'll go back to your place if you insist. Come on, honey. Please open your eyes." He must hate the tinge of whining that laces her tone but she is helpless to keep it at bay, too frustrated and annoyed at the Fates who seem determined to keep them apart after teasing them with a brief interlude of wonderful.

"Alright, I'll tell you what…" She picks up the white queen and holds it up to his eye level, then glides it diagonally across the board into her territory. "I will let you win this one if you promise to wake up today. Oh come on, that's a fair trade. You win and then we'll go celebrate. A nice dinner and then we go back to your place. Or we can relax in my bathtub. Remember how much you liked my tub? That's right, the one with all the candles. We can get even cozier than the last time I brought you there. Maybe you won't be so insistent on keeping my feet from exploring this time. We'll put on some nice romantic music… oh, I don't know about that, honey. Does Johnny Cash even have any slow love songs? Okay, fine, I'll even let you pick the music. Just open your eyes and we'll leave right now. What's that? Oh, you want to finish the game first? You're right, I'm sorry. I did say I'd let you win this one. Okay, let's see, how about I put this bishop right… here."

Ten minutes later, when the majority of her army is gathered beside the board to watch the final stand of white queen versus black rook, she lays her cornered king on its side and brushes a long rusty curl behind her ear. Looking up at her opponent, she spears him with an endearing grin and a triumphant gleam in her eye, despite the outcome of the game. "Congratulations, sheriff. Now what do you say we get you back up on your feet and out of here. We'll run along the Chattahoochee River like we did in our very first dream. Remember that one? Yeah, I know at the time I didn't know it was you. But I know that I really liked my new partner, the dark-haired stranger who made me feel safe." She recalls the whispery image of the figure jogging beside her, his quiet strength leading her onward with a feeling of profound peace in her heart while Springsteen filled her ears and moved her feet.

"I think that was the first time that I realized something big was missing from my life. It's hard to explain, but I think that maybe you would understand. Maybe the only one who could understand. It was like I had a hole in my heart that I never knew existed until you came along and stepped right in with your running shoes and cowboy boots. I think you're holding the only key that could access that area. And if you run right out again, that hole would open back up, stretching wider and wider until that was all that was left of my heart; a big black hole in the shape of you. I would never get over losing you. Charming, annoying, funny, infuriating, adorable, stubborn, sexy… yes, incredibly sexy man that you are," she says with a flirty grin to the blue eyes she imagines are dancing proudly behind his lids. If only she could see them. She swipes a fingertip beneath her eye to brush the tear that she couldn't keep from escaping, tinged with the doubt and despair that has tried to engulf her heart since the day she woke up in his dream. "No, I could never get over losing you," she whispers, and then closes her eyes tightly to fight the melancholy seeping into her bloodstream. With an exhausted sigh, she shakes off the sorrow and lets her soul lead the battle as it refuses to give up on him.

Over the next few weeks Erin keeps her doubts and fears hidden deep inside a tiny corner of her heart, refusing to let them breathe. She ignores their taunting and teasing as she continues to nurse him, counsel him and encourage him, until one day, he finally comes back to her…

* * *

After waiting five long weeks of one-sided conversations filled with restless pleading and lost promises, she can hardly believe that she is actually crawling into the bed with Rick; her dream lover who is alive and awake and warm and wonderful. He is weak in body but strong in spirit and alluring as ever. And in her heart, he is her husband.

Carefully wedging herself between the guardrail and his bandaged ribcage, she lays her head upon his chest as he pulls the thin white blanket up to cover them. With visiting hours long past, the floor is particularly quiet with most of the patients asleep under the watch of the small nighttime crew. She had brought in one of the large chairs they have for family members who wish to spend the night with their loved one, but he had insisted on sharing his narrow bed, and she couldn't resist the temptation. "You better tell me if I'm hurting you at all, Rick."

"You're fine, don't worry." His arm tightens around her shoulders as he kisses the top of her head. "Mmm, this is the best medicine, right here."

She glides her fingertips slowly along the warm skin above his bandage, softly stroking the dark hairs spread lightly across his chest. Her bare foot moves up over his shin until her knee is resting against the hem of his boxer shorts, her thigh lying across his in the same cozy way that she'd snuggled into him so many times in her dreams; holding each other in the lusty darkness of the midnight sun and through the lazy haze of slow dawning days. With his heart beating strongly beneath her hand – and without the accompanying beep of the monitor that had chirped continuously throughout her vigil – she relaxes into him as the memories of medicine and monsters fade away, leaving them with only the soft sighing of each other's peaceful breathing in the quiet room. "This feels like it's our first time together, and not our first time. You know?" she says as her heart beats a slightly nervous rhythm, excited to be lying with him, but anxious that nothing had been lost in the ether between dreams and reality.

"Yeah," he replies softly, sounding slightly nervous himself. "We've never actually been together like this. But I swear I know your body as well as I know my own." His hand slips over her shoulder to the curve of her breast, drawing gentle arcs against the thin cotton of her red tee shirt. He doesn't wander too far, keeping his small circles at the side of her bosom as if waiting for an invitation, unsure of how far he should go on his own. Rolling her shoulder back, she covers his hand and tugs it down until her nipple is stretching into the warmth of his palm.

Her body responds as quickly as it ever had in her dreams, the flutter in her belly dancing at his touch as he caresses her chest. The anxiety she feels now is not built on the fear of disappointment, but composed of the excitement of being held in his arms with the promise of his love in every intimate touch. "You do know my body, Rick. Just like I know yours." She slides her knee upward until it is resting against his cock. "I know just where to touch you."

"Mmm… and tomorrow you can prove it," he moans softly as his hips rise slightly, his body responding as quickly as hers had.

"You mean the day after." Fighting the urge to slip her hand inside his shorts, she ignores the pleading of her little flutter and returns to his chest to finger the soft hairs above his nipple. She lowers her leg to a safe distance from his groin as his hand moves back to her shoulder, thankfully following her lead in keeping this innocent until they can enjoy a little more privacy. "You know Morgan isn't going to release you for a couple of days, no matter how much you beg."

"Fine, I can wait. As long as I get to hold you like this," he says with a light kiss against her hair. "And whenever I do get out of here, we'll need to spend a lot of time alone together..." His voice drops to a soft sensual timbre but she also hears a trace of amusement in his tone. "Getting to know each other, since, you know, there are probably lots of things I don't know about my wife, right?"

"Like the knack she has of being right _all_ the time?" Erin replies, grinning into his chest.

"Or how she just can't resist the temptation to argue with me – _all_ the time," he says, squeezing her shoulder hard.

She giggles beneath his grip, imagining all of the future arguments she has to look forward to. And all the tender moments in between. "Or how much she enjoys long baths, big beds, and huge bowls of butter pecan ice cream."

"Ooh, yeah we are definitely gonna have to get to know each other better before our actual wedding."

"Is that a proposal, sheriff?" she asks softly, almost shyly as her cheeks spread into a smile that forgives him for five long weeks of painfully endless days.

"Nope. Just stating a fact, ma'am," he says in a plainspoken tone that she imagines him using when asking deviant drivers for their license and registration. Then softly, quietly, in a tender tone that calls from his heart to hers, he adds, "The proposal will come when I'm healthy enough and back on my feet… so I can sweep you off yours."

She lifts her chin and presses her lips to his jaw, a breath of devotion against his razor-smooth skin. "I'm going to work so hard on getting you back on your feet, honey." He turns his head and she meets his lips, sealing her oath with a kiss. "And when they do release you, do you think we can take a ride to the cabin? I've wanted to see it so badly."

"That sounds like a perfect first date for a couple of newlyweds. And think of how much nicer it'll be this time without having to worry about a monstrous apocalypse. We can just relax and take the time to really enjoy ourselves."

"With refrigeration!" she cries, recalling the afternoon they had spent there in the dream. "We can actually use real whip cream this time!"

He laughs hard and then emits a slightly painful groan. "Ow."

"Oh, sorry! I'm probably crushing you. " Concerned, she starts to pull away from him but he tightens his hold to keep her from leaving.

"No, you're good." He pulls her back down until her cheek is resting upon his collar bone once again. "I'm fine, baby. We need to plan our trip to the supermarket on the way to the cabin."

"Okay. What will we need besides Cool Whip?" she says, tracing the shape of a heart over the one beating a little quicker inside his chest.

"Condoms."

"What? Why?"

"So I don't get you pregnant. After what happened the last time, Red, I'm not taking any chances."

She rises to her elbow to find his gaze in the darkened room. "But Fate is going to have its way no matter what we do, honey. It'll either happen or it won't. If Tori was meant to be, which I truly believe she was, then that means the condom would only end up breaking."

She hears a heavy sigh filled with shadows of anguish. The misery in his voice splinters her heart when he says, "I feel like I just got you back. I can't lose you again."

"You won't. We'll know what's going to happen so we can warn the doctor ahead of time. He'll be prepared well in advance."

"No, Erin. I can't go through that again."

"We can't deny her existence, deny her our love. She's our daughter, Rick."

"What if she takes you away from me again?"

"Then that was meant to be too. And you will love her enough for the both of us."

"Christ, Erin, please don't-,"

"But that's not going to happen," she cuts him off before the misery in his voice pierces her soul. "You are not going to lose me."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because when I hemorrhaged in the dream, I fell into a coma because you didn't have the equipment to save me. That won't be a problem now."

"Maybe that's true but-,"

"It is true, honey. And maybe I won't even hemorrhage at all this time." At the cynical smirk he gives her, she quickly continues, "Okay, maybe I will, but it won't kill me. Not here. Not this time."

A slight shift in the air and his expression softens. After a moment or two… he smiles. Not a huge happy grin but a small display of agreement at least. He nods his head; a final gesture to accept the incredible dream that had been created from a nightmare. His smile widens. "Not this time."

"Not this time," she echoes, stroking his cheek with a gentle thumb until he cradles her head and pulls her down. He kisses her hard, putting all the power of their love behind their challenge against Fate. When he finally loosens his hold and they are both struggling to catch the breath that was caught in the whirlwind between them, she rests her forehead to his as her future shines bright in his eyes.

"You see, Red… you just couldn't wait to argue with me."

"Always."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Thank you so much for following me to the end of this journey. All the kind words and support I've received for Rick and Erin's story are immeasurable. I am humbled, and immensely grateful. Especially to my dear Bluecrush - for without you, I never would have had the guts to walk in Rick's cowboy boots (or take them off!). Your friendship (and editing skills) mean so much to me.**

 **And now, I hope you enjoy this final chapter of my little romance with Rick Grimes…**

* * *

Standing by the elevator doors, Rick shifts his duffel bag to his left hand and reaches with his right to press the button marked with a downward pointing arrow. The nurse's station buzzes with the usual drone of activity behind him as he waits for the elevator to reach the fourth floor. He hasn't felt this good in days and he is really looking forward to going home. With Erin. And then to the cabin. With Erin. He still can't believe she is truly his. He is undoubtedly the luckiest bastard who had ever walked the earth. Not only did he survive a gunshot that left him in a coma, but he came out on the other side with the love of his life, his soul mate.

His mom used to say that the good and the bad things would always even out. So maybe he had to go through something completely awful to gain something so incredibly wonderful. It was definitely worth it. She was worth it. And through it all, maybe he even learned a few things about himself. Maybe he _is_ worthy of the love of a good woman, capable of honoring the promise he'd made to her with a red bandana under a giant oak tree. That vow may have been sworn in a dream, but it still sings deep in his soul. In his heart she is already his wife, but he will cherish the day he can make it official with a true wedding band.

Looking across the ward, a ribbon of warmth fills his chest as he watches Erin talking to a doctor over a small rolling cart. He is reminded of another morning when he'd peered across the emergency room and seen a lovely young nurse handling a difficult patient. She was bold and beautiful and he had fallen for her the moment her elbow had connected with the jaw of the insolent Easter bunny.

Watching her now, with a burgundy tee shirt tucked into faded blue jeans, she still carries herself like the professional she had been before changing out of her nursing scrubs an hour ago.

The elevator hums and then stops with a slight rattle of the cables. The doors slide open and he steps to the side, clearing a path for the four figures emerging from the cab as he holds a hand against the doorframe to keep it from closing in again. Looking back at Erin, he catches her eye and lifts his chin in question. _You ready?_ She holds up one finger to him as she listens to the doctor, an older man with a large belly and a thick white beard who could sit in for Santa if he'd wanted to trade his white lab coat for a pair of red pajamas.

A woman in nursing scrubs steps into the elevator, giving him a tender smile filled with the steel-toed compassion that these special creatures are made of. When she glances at his hand upon the door and asks if he'll be going down as well, he looks back at the redhead still speaking with Dr. Santa, and then lowers his arm to free the elevator to another floor. Releasing a slightly impatient breath, he drops the duffel at his feet and leans his back against the wall to wait out the discussion being held across the ward.

A figure moves into his peripheral view and he turns his head to see a man in dusty gray sweatpants and a jaggedly sleeveless tan flannel shirt walking on crutches, the soft plod-creak-plod rhythm advancing toward him as he watches Daryl Dixon navigating the hallway with a full-casted leg and a painful expression. He looks awkward and angry and Rick's heart goes out to this stranger who doesn't seem too strange at all. Fighting the urge to help the man – a man whose guarded trust was won in a dream – Rick stays with his back pressed to the wall and a discreet eye on his surreal friend. He breathes low and deep, calm and collected from the knees up, but he can't keep his right foot from twitching as he watches the long greasy hair swaying into the squinty eyes that he felt he'd known so well. Only a few feet away now, he stares down at the boot below his black jeans, straining so hard to hold it still until it is forced into action when the left crutch catches on the carpet and Daryl lurches forward, stumbling in a twister by the elevator doors.

Five weeks in bed may have slowed him from a cougar to a lazy house cat, but Rick is still quick enough to get his hands beneath Daryl's arms to keep him from tumbling all the way to the floor. When the man is steady on his one good leg and the crutches are firmly in place at either side, he relaxes his hold but keeps his gaze locked on the beady blue eyes peering back at him. Despite the hesitation etched on the man's face, Daryl doesn't look away. He meets his gaze for a strangely mesmerizing moment, and then Rick can almost see his body physically curl inward. "You okay?" he asks with an encouraging smile and a slight grimace as he rubs a hand over the dull ache throbbing against his tender ribcage.

"Yeah. Uh, thanks," Daryl replies, his voice as patchy and coarse as the stubble decorating his chin. "You?" he asks, aiming the question at Rick's boots.

"Yeah, just a little sore still." Rick watches him nod his head in sympathy, his heart open for a brief moment before he quickly raises the wall that he'd long ago built to protect it. He wants to ask Daryl how he is doing, but bites back the words before they can leap from his tongue. He'd love to invite him to share a cup of coffee, like they'd done so many times in a convoluted memory, but he chokes down the offer and drops his eyes to the floor, a space that stretches farther and farther between them like a deep dark chasm with a crumbling bridge to cross. He misses his friend. With nothing left to say, he swallows the strange knot in his throat and lifts his gaze back to the oddly bashful expression on Daryl's face. "Well, good luck to you."

"Thanks." Daryl shifts his weight on the crutches, his mouth curving into a frustrated frown.

"Hey, don't be discouraged," Rick says, happy to find some words to prolong the encounter. "You'll get the hang of those things soon enough. Just takes some practice. Just keep telling yourself it's only temporary."

"Yeah, ain't gonna end up in no walker," Daryl grumbles into his chest. "Rather be fightin' a whole herd of walkers." He looks up suddenly, his squinty eyes now as big and round as a deer staring at a pair of oncoming headlights.

"What?" Rick asks, his heart tripping inside his chest as he watches Daryl screw up his face in a hopeless effort to retract the words he'd just spoken. "What was that about a herd of walkers?"

"Uh…," Daryl stammers, appearing extremely nervous as he chews on his bottom lip. "Somethin' I seen on TV."

 _Could it be?_ Rick gives him a cautious grin, treading lightly as he extends an offer of camaraderie; a pledge of loyalty that he hopes compelling enough to soothe a frightened animal. _Come on, Daryl. Trust me now like you trusted me then._ "I think I saw the same thing. An old zombie apocalypse flick where this group of people were trying to survive together." Daryl meets his eyes and Rick gives him a knowing smile, validating a distant dream. "They were camped out at an abandoned quarry for a while before they were forced to move on."

Daryl holds his gaze, confounded relief shining bright in his eyes. "Yeah, and then they found a farm," he says, his voice filled with a thick wedge of faith.

Rick can't keep the smile from spreading further across his face as he shakes his head slowly. "It was a helluva show, man."

"Hey, Daryl," Erin says, joining them in front of the elevator doors. "You're looking good with your new legs. You'll be back on your bike before you know it."

"Not soon enough," Daryl groans with his usual flair for moody bitterness, but a wide grin transforms his face completely as he moves the crutches forward and swings his weight between them. "I'll see ya 'round, sheriff!"

Smiling like a kid on Christmas day, Rick watches his friend maneuver down the hall. "Count on it!" he calls to the retreating plod-creak-plod as Erin steps into his side. He puts his arm around her and watches Daryl turn his head to leave a final parting remark.

"Take care of our nurse or I'll put an arrow in yer ass!"

Rick laughs, welcoming the image displayed on the silver screen of old memories in his mind; a scruffy redneck at his side with a loaded crossbow aimed at a group of walking dead. "You know I will!" He hears a murmured _'I know_ ' between the creaks as Daryl turns the corner around the nurse's station.

"What was that all about?" Erin asks, looking up at him after watching Daryl hobble away.

"Just sharing old war stories. Come on, Red. Let's go home."

* * *

Erin watches the cabin getting larger as Rick steers the Toyota up the dirt road, the array of patchwork on the roof coming into view as the woods give way to a large clearing. She spares a long glance at the front porch as he parks in front of the short flight of steps, but the pretty lake sitting outside her window draws her heart. The great willow tree resting on its bank calls to her like a dear old friend, and an eternity of wishing and waiting drifts away in the rippling water that holds its reflection. Getting out of the car she murmurs a brief response to Rick's voice, a vague reply to a question she hadn't really comprehended. She is slightly aware of him carrying the grocery bags into the cabin as she walks toward the water, her hand raised to feel the whispery texture of the leaves as she passes by the willow. The familiar rock formation at its side beckons her company and she spreads her arms for balance as she steps up to the surface, and keeps them spread as she walks to the center, as if embracing the lake itself as she listens for an old familiar quack. Disappointment threads her thoughts when she doesn't see or hear the little ducklings, but she knows they are out there and takes comfort in that as she enjoys the peaceful serenity of the lake. A minute later, Rick warms her back as his arms slip around her belly, the feel of his lips heavenly on the side of her neck as she closes her eyes and tilts her head, moaning softly as the sun watches from above. When his tongue dips into her ear she moans deeper as a torrent of gooseflesh races up her arm. A sharp little quack echoes over the water and she opens her eyes with a stifled squeal of delight. "Honey, look," she whispers, keeping her voice low in deference to the tranquil setting as she sees the family of ducks floating in the reflection of trees across the lake. "There they are."

"Mmm… all _five_ of them," he breathes against her neck, tightening his hold around her middle.

"Exactly." Turning in his arms, she drapes her hands upon his shoulders and lifts her chin to meet his lips. He pulls her full against him and she parts her lips as he angles his mouth over hers. His tongue is smooth and silky and his hands are warm and wonderful as they rediscover her body, caressing her curves from the crown of her head to the cheeks of her ass. She clutches his blue plaid shirt in two trembling fists as he sets her flesh on fire. With passion blazing an urgent need from his center to hers, she lifts a knee to his hip in an effort to bring them together. She tangles her fingers in his hair as he grinds against her, squeezing her rump as he drops his mouth to her throat.

"You up for a little skinny dipping…," he asks, panting and pleading. "Or would you rather ravish me in the bedroom?"

"Bedroom," she replies, just as breathless as her heart pounds fervently and her little flutter quivers with anticipation, eager to dance to the tune she was taught in a dream. _"Now."_ She lifts her chin high as he nips at her neck. "Later… we dip." Lowering her head once more, she finds his mouth and invites him in, parting her lips after a few ardent pecks fuel the heat that burns like wildfire on their tongues. He tastes so damn good she could kiss him forever – but forever will have to wait, for the need to feel him inside her, joined at the hip in the most intimate way, outshines her hunger for his savory tongue. "Please, baby. Take me to bed."

"As you wish." He takes her hand and guides her down from the rock, and then sweeps her from her feet like a bride.

"As much as I'm enjoying this, didn't Morgan say no lifting anything for a few more days? You better put me down, honey."

"Nah, you're light as a feather."

Entering the front door, she swivels her head to take in the masculine features under the warm earth-tones coloring the den and kitchen. It's all exactly as she remembers it from the dream, except for the two brown grocery bags sitting on the kitchen table. Kicking off her sneakers as he carries her into the bedroom, she also notices the same stack of books waiting to be picked from the nightstand. The tan sheets are cool against her back as he lays her on the bed, the red and russet blanket already turned down toward the footboard.

His knee nudges hers apart and she spreads them wide, her hips rising to meet his arousal as he settles on top of her. Rocking slowly against each other, fully dressed but fully charged, she looks up to glimpse a sea of tenderness in the beautiful blue eyes gazing down at her.

"I love you, Red."

Her reply is absorbed in the texture of his tongue when he descends upon her mouth. In a flurry of warm kisses and ardent caresses, her clothes are shed until she is lying naked beneath him, squirming against him as sparks of fire lick at her flesh. Her muddled mind is drowning in a river of desire when he rolls to his back, pulling her with him until her inner thighs are burning against his bare skin. He holds himself at her entrance and guides her down his length. Her breath hitches and she pulls back slightly, taking her time to acclimate to his thickness. Moving slowly, she lowers herself inch by wonderful inch until he is buried deep within her walls. Mindful of the wound beneath the bandage at his ribs, she rests her hands upon his chest and rolls her hips, bringing him in again and again and again.

Her soft moans mingle with his as she moves over him. She is lost in the rhythm of their coupling when her hands are lifted and her fingers threaded through his. Palm to palm, she squeezes his hands and moves faster, the pleasure budding low in her belly and blooming toward each and every nerve ending with every thrust she greets. In to the hilt, out to the crown, over and over he fills her, blurring the lines of him and her, he and she, you and me, until they are one; one body, one heart, one soul.

A tremor of heaven is buzzing in her belly when he suddenly releases her hands to clutch her waist. On the edge of frustration, she holds in a whimper as he sits up and wraps an arm around her lower back.

"Let's slow this down a little," he says, his breath a bit ragged. Holding her in place, he dips his mouth to the tip of her breast, caressing her flesh with gentle fingers as his tongue glides over the peak, already hardened into a tight pebble of sensation.

Forced to lean back over his arm, she clutches onto his shoulders and grips the back of his neck, slightly pulling at his dark hair as she tries to keep from squirming on his lap. He is so thick and deep inside her, filling her with an intense heat as his mouth ignites a small fire upon her chest, his teeth sparking the ember as his tongue fans the flame. When he blows a gentle wind over her heated skin she arches her back even further, her long hair pooling over his knees as she lifts her bosom closer to his mouth once more. He places a quick parting kiss to the breast glistening with his saliva and moves to her other peak. His weight shifts slightly beneath her as he switches hands, the other arm now wrapped around her waist, and then it moves lower until she feels a nice grip on her rump, squeezing her pleasantly as he lifts her up and down, moving her just enough along his length to satisfy her without sending him into orbit. "God, that feels good."

"Slow now," he whispers against her breast, and then her nipple is caught between his teeth again.

She moves slowly over him, her focus torn between the dazzling bonfire he has stoked upon her chest, and the exquisite storm raging through her apex. She keeps her motions small, intent on making their union last, but it isn't long before she is chasing the storm surge and despite his hold, she begins to roll her hips to catch it. When he finally lies back on the mattress she moves to sit up straighter, but a thumb at her entrance has her arching her back again as her hands clutch the sheets beside his thighs. "Oh God."

"I love you, Erin."

"I love you back. Sweet baby Jesus, Rick…always." He circles the slick nubbin at her opening as he thrusts hard and fast inside. When her world explodes and she falls to his chest with her legs trembling and her belly in quivers, she clutches his shoulders as he clutches her back, riding his own wave of ecstasy with a fiery moan beneath her. In all her life, and in all her dreams, she'd never felt anything quite like it.

Nothing had ever filled her senses so completely; the scorching warmth of his chest touching hers, the sound of his heart beating furiously beneath her ear, the scent of his musky maleness wafting through her nostrils, and the ever-so-satisfying taste of his skin upon her tongue. She licks the sweat from her upper lip and an image of the newly purchased Reddi-wip pops into her mind, along with the lascivious grin he'd given her when she had put it in the shopping cart. She groans low in her throat, wallowing at the missed opportunity as she thinks of all the things she had planned to garnish in this bed. With her face buried in his neck and her chest vibrating deeply, she feels him go suddenly rigid.

"What's the matter? Oh God, did I hurt you?" he asks, fearful concern shifting his body beneath her.

"No, honey, no." She lifts her head and smiles down at him, brushing her finger through a wisp of dark hair curling over his forehead. "I just remembered the whipped cream that I'd meant to grab from the kitchen."

"Oh," he chuckles softly as he relaxes into the mattress once more. "Not my fault. You just couldn't wait to get your hands on me. But don't worry, there's plenty of time for that after dinner," he adds, caressing her back with warm gentle arcs. "You can have me again for dessert."

 _Several hours later…_

When the stars were at their brightest and their bellies filled with happiness, she fervently enjoyed her dessert; her hand was deft, her tongue clever and his moans loud. Drifting toward sleep beneath him, the aftertaste of the cream upon her lips and his desire inside her mouth lingered sweet, robust, and wonderful. The experience warmed her thoughts not as a dream this time, but a real memory. The whipped cream was cold, the passion was hot, his body was hard and the night was all theirs. The moon gazed down on a peaceful world as they lie spent in a mesh of breath and limbs, conveying their love for each other as the beat of a single heart echoed in the darkness.

 _Eight years later…_

A dog barks from a nearby window as Erin follows the tricycle along the sidewalk that lines their quiet street. Rick squeezes her hand as she watches the strawberry-blonde ponytail swaying over the book-bag strapped securely to her daughter's back. The vinyl eyes of the yellow dinosaur wink at them, appearing and disappearing through the long curls rocking back and forth with every turn of the little white Sketchers. In a pair of overall shorts embroidered with purple dragonflies that match the tee shirt beneath the denim bib, as well as the lavender ribbon that circles her ponytail, Tori's skinny legs proudly pump the wheels of the miniature orange and black Harley Davidson Police Chopper, a gift from her Uncle Daryl on her third birthday. Headstrong but heartwarming, she didn't care so much about what she wore for her first day of kindergarten, so long as she was allowed to 'drive' to the bus stop.

She'd been eager to go from the moment she woke and was waiting at the door well before the necessary time of departure, which should have been a blessing, if Erin hadn't been dragging her feet so heavily toward this milestone. When they had registered for school, she had been as excited as her daughter. As a family, they'd had a lovely time shopping for the necessary supplies to fill her dinosaur backpack. Throughout the summer, kindergarten was the topic of discussion over many happy dinner tables. She had genuinely been looking forward to this day for weeks… until yesterday, when Erin realized that her little girl would no longer be waiting for her downstairs in the hospital's daycare center at the end of her part-time shift. The realization had hit her hard. Rick had teased her about it last night, but he had also tried to make her feel better, offering a foot massage while tucking Tori in bed with a favorite Dr. Seuss tongue-twister. He'd tenderly caressed her feet in his lap at the foot of the bed while she'd snuggled with their daughter against the pillows. She had stayed with Tori until she was deeply asleep – something she hadn't done in years, and then shuffled off to her own bed, where Rick continued the massage well above her feet, effectively taking her mind off of their too-quickly-growing child.

Now, she takes comfort from him still, a figure of strength in his sheriff's uniform. She clings to his hand, swallowing the lump in her throat as their baby girl swiftly glides into her future. She sniffles hard and Rick squeezes her hand.

"She's not going to the other side of the world," he says, his voice teasing but soothing all the same. "She's going across town to make you beautiful finger-paintings and macaroni necklaces between recess and naptime."

"I know, I just can't help it. It feels like we just had her yesterday and now look at her."

"Yup, she's all grown up now," he says, tugging at her hand. "Before you know it she'll be running off to college and then moving in with a boyfriend with more piercings than she'll ever have."

"That's not funny," she says despite a small grin for his efforts. "This is torture, and I don't want to even think about her leaving for college. It's been hard enough watching Carl go off to Georgia Tech for the last two years…"

"Which he loves."

"Thank God," she replies, sincerely grateful that her stepson is doing so well.

"He'll be moving in with Sophia soon enough," Rick says.

"Not before he finishes his engineering degree."

"Soon enough," he repeats as they continue in the wake of the trike.

"God, where does the time go? Wasn't Carl just in middle school?" The rhetorical question hangs on a spike of incredulity. "And this is our baby girl, Rick. She's so small and… and delicate…"

"Delicate?" His brows reach high into his forehead. "Are we talking about the same kid who climbed out of her crib every night at the age of fourteen months just to knock the baby monitor off the dresser again and again? Or do you mean the two year old who used to bite the ears of Daryl's Rottweiler?"

Erin cringes with a smirk at the memory of Tori rolling around the floor with Daryl Dixon's ferocious-looking dog, her tiny fingers poking into Samson's jowls as she nibbled on the tip of his ear. That big dog had the heart of a lion but the soul of a lamb when it came to their little girl. "You know what I mean, honey. She just seems so little to be going off on her own already."

"Okay, I know this is a small town," he responds. "But I'm quite certain that there are a few adults at the King Springs Elementary School. And I'm pretty sure they don't bring out the hard liquor until second grade, so the worst that she'll get is a good beer buzz." Against her will, his sarcasm makes Erin laugh, but she still swats at his teasing grin. "Come on, Red. She's gonna be fine."

"What if she hates it? What if the other kids are mean to her?" she asks quietly, feeling utterly helpless. "How am I supposed to protect her when she's so far away?" She watches Tori arrive at the corner and steer to a stop with the large front wheel resting in the grass. Two of the four kids already there – a five year old boy and his slightly older sister – walk over to the mini Harley with questioning fingers and excited expressions.

"She's gonna be fine, sweetheart," Rick says gently. "And so will you. Now there's the bus," he says as a long yellow school bus turns the corner at the far end of the street. "Just a quick goodbye, remember? Don't make a big deal."

"I won't, I'm good." She inhales deeply and squares her shoulders, bracing herself for the heart wrenching send-off. Crouching down, she pecks a quick kiss to Tori's forehead with a fiercely whispered _I love you_ against her crown, and then backs away swiftly before the pain can blossom to an unbearable ache. Just like pulling off a band-aid. Tori moves to say goodbye to her Daddy and Erin is very proud of how brave their little girl is being, and a little disappointed at how easily her little one is able to say goodbye to them, as if she wasn't going to miss them at all. Okay, of course she's thrilled that her daughter is adjusting so well and it's totally irrational to want her child to be upset, but a small selfish part of her still can't help it, not when she desperately misses Tori already and she hasn't even gotten on the bus yet. At least these ridiculous feelings of disappointment soak up the tears that had been threatening to flow all morning.

She watches Rick drop to his knee and pull Tori in for a light kiss on her lips, followed by a wet raspberry on her neck; their usual morning ritual before he leaves for the station. His outfit may be the same, but this time it is not the aroma of toasted Eggo waffles drifting from the kitchen table that lingers in her nostrils, but the fresh scent of moisture clinging to the morning grass of the house that marks the bus stop for this section of the neighborhood. Their sweet exchange tugs at her heart and her throat thickens with emotion once more. She swallows hard as Tori climbs the steps of the bus. A strong arm circles her shoulders.

"I'm proud of you, Red."

She watches the strawberry-blonde ponytail bobbing down the aisle and then her sweet little face pops up in the window of the fourth row.

"Sweet baby Jesus, this _sucks_." Rick's voice breaks on an emotional wave as the yellow doors close with a screech. When the bus pulls away, Erin turns to see her husband wiping a knuckle beneath his eye. "What time does the bus come back?" he asks thickly.

"About 3:40," she replies, her voice full of compassion for his sudden state of misery.

"Jeez, that's a long day for a little kid."

"She'll be fine, honey. And so will you," she echoes, smiling through her own glassy-eyed vision.

"I'm never letting her go to college."

She rubs his arm with a comforting palm and then lifts the tricycle by the handlebar. "Come on, babe. I'll give you a nice foot massage." Looping her free arm through his, she turns them toward the pretty split-level house five doors down. The white trim could use a good power-washing but the red bricks are still warm and welcoming. "Let's go home."


End file.
